An Open Letter to Bravo

Dear Bravo, even though you are responsible for inflicting Christian Siriano on an unwitting public, I must say that you've offered quite the run of entertainment these past few years. Project Runway introduced the genre of reality shows with contestants who actually have a talent to contribute to society, and for that welcome respite from the boozy sexcapades of The Real World and the celebration of treachery that is Survivor, the American public will have you to thank for classing up Reality TV just a bit. However, the visceral reaction of disgust that welled up in me once I saw the promos for Date My Ex pretty much confirmed to me that it's time for us to have a talk. I don't know whether it was the heat, my hunger, my contempt for Jo De La Rosa and the transition to pop princess that she's trying to make about 18 years too late, or all of the above, but when I saw the poster in the subway and actually entertained the thought of setting fire to it, I knew that it was time to talk. Simply put, your programming slate sucks. It is dismal, awful, mortifying, and frightening, and I'm not just talking about Jeff Lewis' lips. You have managed to re-brand your network into a showcase for unappealing reality "stars" who have achieved little more than marrying rich (The Real Housewives), having great abs (Work Out), or having appeared on other Bravo reality shows (the aforementioned Date My Ex and most likely some awful concept that is close to getting greenlit as we speak).

Now, I do realize that outlining problems without any solutions is nothing but bitching (although the bitching is fun), so I have a few suggestions:

1. ENOUGH WITH THE GODDAMN SCRIPTING!

Because, honestly, I'm waiting for one of these fools to look off camera and ask for a line half the time.

2. A Large Bank Account Does Not an Inherently Interesting Person Make

Pick a Housewife, ANY Housewife, and I challenge you to find a more boring person on television. And yes, that includes Brian Williams.

3. Get Off of The Horse, Already...

Project Runway was great, then Top Chef was ok, and then Shear Genius was kinda boring, and boy did Top Design suck, and, man, even Nomi Malone herself couldn't save Step It Up and Dance, and she was working her ass off. Who even won that show anyways? Exactly.


4. Rich Assholes Aren't Entertaining When They're Real

In America, we LOVE rich assholes, and we love shows and movies about rich assholes, and I think we all secretly want to be rich assholes, but we don't really like to watch real rich assholes be rich assholes in reality shows because they remind us of the rich assholes that most of us have to deal with in real life, and, besides, most of the rich assholes in real life are devoid of the depth that writers can give them in scripted shows, and while (as per suggestion #1) we know that your producers are working overtime to give your rich assholes personalities and snappy dialogue, it's not really working, and the rich assholes that populate most of your shows lack the self-awareness required to pull any of this stuff off. So, perhaps maybe you could, you know, build a few shows around people who aren't rich assholes.

5. Awards Shows Aren't Your Thing

Even putting aside the irony that your A-List Awards weren't attended by anyone who could be EVER be mistaken for such, the show was a disaster. When your own reality stars look embarrassed to be there and the award itself looks like something that may be rejected from use at the Gay Porn Awards for being a bit too tacky, you may want to heed the signs that the universe is sending you and reconsider making this an annual thing, although I must admit it was kinda funny seeing the guy who won for having a great ass in the Sex and the City movie accepting the award as if it were a Nobel Peace Prize.

So there they are, 5 suggestions that, if heeded, may put you on the right track, although I suspect that you don't see the brick wall in front of the train, and in that case you may be beyond helping. But please, if you hear nothing else, hear this: don't never, EVER pick up The Millionaire Matchmaker for another season and we'll call it even. Pretty please?

P.S. - Bonus credit will be given if and when you finally release this on DVD, because having the ability to see Whitney Houston telling Bobby Brown to kiss her ass anytime I want to would forgive a multitude of sins. Even Million Dollar Listing.